


Waiting For Ruin

by Hoeniwitch



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Blood and Injury, Fluff and Angst, Forests, Hurt Dream, Hurt/Comfort, It is the dream team, Just in general, Lots of plot, Manhunt - Freeform, Medical Procedures, Minecraft, No beta we die like tubbo at the feastival, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Stupidity, What Did You Expect, dream team, so much plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27347362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoeniwitch/pseuds/Hoeniwitch
Summary: A cold breeze moved across the birch forest. The thick patches of snow that had piled around the base of the thin leafless trees quickly became dirty mush under the warm sunlight. The sound of heavy feet and clanging of amour was almost ironic in such a peaceful place.A misunderstanding.A lock of hair.A mask.A fellowship.Or: Dream Team manhunt fanwork with ✨plot✨.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Dream Team - Relationship, No romance - Relationship
Comments: 25
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1: A hefty price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First work ever. I hope you all like it!
> 
> ⚠️If Dream Team/Muffinteers ever publicly say they don't want people writing fanworks about them, I'll delete this!  
> However, until then I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> TW // Mentions/accusations of assault, nonconsensual touching/grabbing

A cold breeze moved across the birch forest. Thick patches of snow that had piled around the base of the thin leafless trees quickly became dirty mush in under the warm sunlight. The sound of heavy feet and clanging of amour was almost ironic in such a peaceful place.

Dream skidded to a halt, scrambling to huddle behind in a particularly close cluster of trees. His laboured breath had begun building humidity under his mask. He shifted to a more comfortable position, hissing quietly as the movement disturbed the bandages wrapped tightly around his upper thigh. He peered over the branches as the three hunters stood in a semi-circle, gawking at a compass. It shimmered with purples and blues, magick thick in the air enough for Dream to taste it. Headband— Dream had yet to learn their names, although he didn’t think he’d care even if he _did_ — whacked the side of it harshly as he cursed under his breath. Hood swatted the back of Headband’s head as hard, maybe even harder than, as he hit the compass.

“Language!” Hood's voice was higher pitched and nasally.

“Bad, what the–” Headband started but stopped to grumble to himself, rubbing the back of his head.

“He couldn’t have gotten that far. I say we split up and look for him.”

“ _I say we split up and look for him_.” Headband still focused on the compass (Dream couldn’t wait for the day he got a hold of the enchanted little fucker, he was going to enjoy smashing it to pieces under his heel) copied Goggles’ accent as he made fun of him. 

Dream held back a snicker, it clogged his throat painfully as he pushed it down. He tilted his arm to allow his pack to slide off his back and onto the ground with little noise. He watched the hunters, heart pounding as he turned his back to them.

“We were right behind him!”

“Maybe he climbed a tree?”

Dream shifted through his items, ears still opened for the hunters less than a hundred feet away. His hand finally found what he was looking for, his fingers slid across the smooth surface of the glassy orb. Abated breath left him as relief took its place. An angered yell suddenly filled the air; Dream flinched, quickly pressing the item into his backpack. He peaked over the brushes, emerald eyes watched as the two hunters spoke amongst themselves. Googles played with the compass while Hood had taken up looking at a few flowers pushing through the icy ground.

_Wait._ Dream felt dread pool in his stomach. _Two. Goggles and Hood. Where’s headband—_

An arrow, whizzed past his head, sinking into the tree next to him. The head embedded itself deep to the wood, splintering the dry bark.

_“Found him!”_

Dream spun around, his eyes snapped to meet Headband’s. There was a look on his face that Dream could only account to one thing: bloodlust. He stood and sprang forward running, not wanting to end up like the tree.

“Get him! **Get him!** ” 

“Do _not_ let him get away again!” Goggles’ voice carried as Dream slipped through trees. 

His legs burned with each step, he glanced behind him to gauge how far ahead he was and yelped. He ducked as another arrow flew by, hitting another tree. Hood made a noise of annoyance and Dream felt adrenaline flood his veins. He stood and watched as Hood began nocking another arrow, Goggle and Headband continued to chase him. Dream, without much thought, pressed on the trunk of the tree with his foot and yanked out the arrow with both hands. He stumbled back a little before looking down with a sense of accomplishment. 

Dream continued running, fist wrapped tightly around the heavy bolt. He needed a way out and the birch forest had been merciless since he stumbled upon it.

_Oh, come_ on!

Someone was pissing themselves right now because of all this, and Dream hoped they choked. He saw the cliff before the hunters did, and had to force himself not to stop running to give himself more time. He kept going until there wasn’t any more ground, quickly stepping back as a small portion crumbled under his weight. His eyes landed on the river thirty feet below.

"You've got to be kidding me." Dream geared himself to jump, but couldn't bring himself to do. The water rushed below and the height itself made Dream want to heave the little fish he'd eaten before the impromptu chase. 

“He’s right there!” Dream turned around as Goggles yelled, Headband and Hood right behind. Dream had five seconds to pick and his feet had already done it for him. He turned and heard Hood yell as he moved to jump.

“Stop him!”

Dream felt something touch the sleeve of his jacket but lose grip just enough to let him fall. His body twisted in the air as he freefell. He opened his eyes to see the hunter standing on the edge of the cliff; Headband’s arm was stretched towards him like he'd tried stopping him. The cold-stunned him as his back hit the water, sending him under the stream in a loud splash. He noted the absurdity of the situation as air bubbles passed by his lips.

* * *

_Dream blinked harshly, forcing back his fears. He stood, tall and cold like steel, or at least tried to._

_“You know why you’re here.”_

_Dream had half a mind to lie. He hadn’t done anything, but it didn’t matter if he thought that. His mouth opened but he was cut off by the sound of ink on paper. The sound of his life being signed away. He resolved to watch, jaw clenched tightly enough to ache._

_“You assaulted a Noblewoman–”_

_Hot anger boiled Dream’s blood, curdling his sense of judgment. “She_ ** _attacked_** _me! I was defending myself.”_

_“You used magick! You’re a Witch!” The Lord stood suddenly, crown shifting to sit crookedly on his fathead, almost like a metaphor. The small crowd whispered amongst themselves like hummingbirds; a bribed jury of people pleasers and aristocrats. Dream felt a cruelness building in his gut, mind racing with every way he’d snuff that smug look off the Lord’s face._

_“You bewitched her with your magicks and spells—” Dream willed himself not to speak, the urge to defend himself like a match lighting a pyre; With how it was going, he’d end up in one anyway. “— which we all know is illegal.”_

_“You have no proof.” Dream spat, gritting his teeth._

_The Lord’s face twisted into a smile that didn’t quite fit right. Dream stepped back as the thick smell of burning cinnamon hit his nostrils. He felt electricity on his skin as the Lord stalked forward, a ring covered sausage jabbed at him in accusation._

_“Everyone saw it. You can’t lie to me, witch.” The Lord closed in, mouth pulled into a rancid sneer. The way it made his nose scrunch up reminded Dream of a pig._

_“You’re the liar.” He whispered, venom dripping off his tone like honey. “I’m_ not _a witch...” Dream knew he should stop, but the way his voice made the “mighty” Lord squirm was too enticing. His anger, as it did so very easily, took the reins. “But if I was, I wouldn’t go for some high Lady, M’Lord.” He snapped, the guard quickly seizing him. He thrashed for a moment. The Lord sputtered, voice a few octaves higher._

_“S-see!? A witch! He m-...means to curse me! A threat that must be taken care of. Take—” The Lord seemed to resolve himself, his persona cooled and cruel._

_”...take him to the dungeons. He’ll be_ ** _executed_** _by dawn.”_

_Dream stopped moving, body turning cold as the guard clasped a thick iron shackle on his wrist._

_“Wait. I didn’t do anything-...you can’t do this! I’m not-”_

_“What? A witch? An assaulter? You’ve raised your voice in front of your Lord.”_

_It took a second as he met the eyes of the Lord; It took a second as he realised what was happening. The averted eyes and hush tones, he was never leaving this room. He was fucked the moment he opened his mouth._

_“You don’t care that I used magick. It's because of her. You’re mad because she wanted me and not you.”_

_The Lord’s face turned an ugly shade of red, incriminating the both of them. The Lord roughly grabbed his chin, greasy fingers digging into his skin._

_“The only person who could ever want someone like you would be the wither itself.”_

_Dream felt fear, like Death’s scythe itself sat on his throat. He opened his mouth and Lord shoved him back onto his bum. The guard pulled him up by his armpits, large hands holding him in place._

_“Get him out of my sight. I don’t want to see him till he’s tied to that fucking tower.”_

* * *

_Dream sat in the corner of the damp cell. An echoing drip from the cracked ceiling acted as a clock: Every drip meant he was closer to death._

_Drip...drip...drip._

_Dream rubbed at his face, hands shaking. He was going to fucking die because he refused a Noblewoman. He built up fear leaked from him like a toxin, the cell buzzing with anxiety and burnt cinnamon. He chewed at his lip, mind filtering through everything he could try._

_“You shouldn’t do that.”_

_Dream screamed, jumping up at the very sudden sound of another voice. He stared at the petite woman, sitting on the rickety wooden bench. Wrinkled hands folded nicely on top of each other as she smiled gummily at him. Dream cleared his throat._

_“When did you—”_

_“Oh, let’s not get into all that.” She croaked in a wise voice, something hidden and demanding about her tone. She shifted to put herself into the candle’s flame for a better view and Dream held back another scream. His face shifted into a silent horror as the woman hummed sweetly._

_“Don’t stare child, it’s_ rude _.”_

_Dream shifted away from the woman’s eyes, or more like the lack of them. He felt a wave of sickness hit him, as he pushed down bile._

_“W-what do you want?” Dream spoke unevenly, shaken._

_“To help you.” The old woman chirped. She stood from the bench slowly, her bones creaking under her weight. “You’ve got yourself deep haven’t you?” Her tone was teasing, but there was still that underlying darkness that kept Dream on his toes._

_“What does it matter to you?”_

_There it was again, the smell, clogging his pores and coating his clothes; burning cinnamon._

_“Because I’m feeling nice.” There was a moment of pregnant silence before the woman burst into hearty laughter, it boomed across the walls causing Dream to shrink in on himself. He stared in shock as she calmed herself. “No, no. I’m only joking. I want something from you.”_

_“What do you want?”_

_“Your hair.”_

_Dream had never thought much of his hair. It was dirty blonde, closer to brown in the winter or when wet, and landed at his ears if he let it down. A simple band held it in a short tail at the base of his neck. His hand slowly moved to touch his head, gently taking a loose lock in between his fingers._

_“My hair…?”_

_“Yes. Just your hair.”_

_The woman loomed forward, frail arms reaching up to touch him. Dream stepped back, his back making contact with the cellar wall._

_“Why?”_

_His throat was dry and his head swam as the candle seemed to grow brighter as the woman got closer. The woman’s mouth pulled into another soft smile._

_“You’re so young...it will grow back. Me? My hair is all I have. Be kind, just a little...and then I’ll help you get out of here…seems good to me.”_

_Dream wouldn’t meet her eyes, or at least her eye sockets. He stared at the dirty ground and mulled over his options. He had none. It was just hair, right?_

_“Okay. You...you can have my hair.”_

_The woman sprung to life, excited as she clapped her withered hands together. She took no time in grabbing his arms; She pulled him forward closer to the candle before pushing him onto the bench. Dream felt nauseous again, the smell now overwhelming as his bum met with the rotting wood. Dream only now wondered how she meant to cut his hair. She hummed as her hands gently touched his neck and scalp sending shivers down his back like spiders. Dream fought to keep his eyes open._

_“No wonder it was so easy to charm her...a pretty thing like you must have been easy to fancy…”_

_It took a second for him to realise what she had said; It took a second for him to twist away._

_“It was you—”_

_He was a moment too late. His golden hair, chopped half haphazardly, was held in her frail fist._

_“You’re the witch.”_

_“How rude calling an old woman a witch. You should watch your_ mouth _.” Dream felt his jaw clench involuntarily, lips pressed into an unbreakable seal. He began to panic as he clawed at his own mouth._

How!?

_The hag laughed, though it sounded like a shriek making his ears ring._

_“I’m not one to break promises. I’ll help you out…”_

_A sudden force pulled him to his knees, hard enough to make him wince. He sat silent and unable to move as the woman placed his hair into a jar. The longer he stared, the heavy his eyelids became. A pressure pushed on his shoulders making him want to crumble as the woman hummed. Dream wondered if he knew the song, it sounded familiar in a way but he couldn't be sure. The woman, he realised, wore long robes from which she materialized a wooden mask. It was a blank flat circle except for hollow eye holes with thick leather straps and a metal clasp. She held a strand of his hair between two long fingers before speaking a language Dream had never heard before._

_“ᒷリ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ᒷリ↸, ᓭᒷᒷ ∴╎ℸ ̣ ⍑╎リ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ⎓╎リ↸ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ᒷ||.”_

_Dream shifted sluggishly, as the hag moved closer. The candle flickered purple as the woman placed the mask on his face. The moment it touched his skin, the mask latched on and Dream, even in his lulled state, knew something was wrong. Dream twisted away, body weak and overwhelmed as the woman’s humming filled his mind digging her nails into the corners of his brain with her song._

_He collapsed as the world blurred around him._

* * *

_Dream shot up, gasping for air as his hands flew to his face. His fingertips hit wood before clasping the edges and pulling. It doesn’t budge, he reaches for the buckle, fingers still numb fiddle to no avail. He slowly removed his hands and surveyed his surroundings. He was outside. Dream stood, legs tingling from sleep as the recollection of events slammed into him. His fingers dipped under the mask, where it hung over his nose just enough he could reach his mouth. His mouth was free from the silent spell and he quietly tested his voice._

_“What the fuck.”_

_His breathing quickened in his throat, chest heaving for a moment as panic flooded him. He looked down at himself, noting his clothing was the same. His coat and shirt, boots, pants, bag—...bag? His green eyes fell on the bag sitting passively on the ground. Slowly he crouched and peered into it. He shifted through the items, all basic things for travel. He wasn’t sure what happened, or where he was. He stood in an oak forest, not unlike one outside his town…_

_Fear gripped his throat as he quickly looked to the sky only to find a canopy of trees._

_He had no clue how long he had slept and didn’t want to stay long enough to find out once the Lord found out he was gone. He grabbed the knapsack and wondered if he should leave the thing. It was covered in the smell and he felt nauseous just thinking about it. Choosing not to look a gift horse in the face he slid the bag on and with little to no idea began walking…_

_It took 3 days for the hunters to find him.  
_

* * *

Dream broke the surface of the water, gasping for air as he swam to shore. He heaved himself onto the earth and coughed hard enough his chest rattled. He glanced down at the sopping bandages slowly untangling themselves from his thigh. He groaned quietly, throwing his head back.

"Damnit."

He stood, soaked, and shivering as he watched the sky. There was still a few hours of daylight and the hunters would be on him again in no time, he knew that for sure. He didn’t want to waste the advantage he gained.

He went forward, the smell of burnt cinnamon following him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think (or just say hi tbh)!!! Thank you for reading! <3  
> Updates are planned for Sundays and Wednesdays!


	2. A Long Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW // Blood and Dubious Medical Procedures
> 
> Please enjoy!

Dream knew one thing for certain: the three hunters were _extraordinarily_ persistent. He wasn’t sure about smarts, or strengths, but if persistence was the key they might as well own the whole kingdom. He watched as the trio surrounded a fire, their backs to a particularly steep hillside; _one mark for smarts._ He resided a healthy distance away, perching on a thick oak branch. The smell of fish and vegetables was potent enough to make Dream’s stomach twist with an ugly sound. 

He felt a tightness in his thigh as he leaned forward, the bandages had been replaced from his impromptu swim but the pain stayed. It had been from Headband the first time he’d met the hunters. Dream, stupidly, stayed the night in a small village. It was quaint, making due through farming. He’d sworn no one had seen him, but after crashing out in a chicken coop, he’d woken up to the sound of voices. In his escape he misstepped, a single fatal mistake that could have, _would_ have, gotten him killed if not for a perfectly placed cowpie.

He had laughed, high pitched and sharp from his throat so hard it hurt. Headband slipped and landed face first, getting a mouthful of hay in the process. Adrenaline flooded his veins and he found the situation extremely hilarious despite his impending death. He ran not a moment later and disappeared into the thick treeline, still smiling.

“Oh, Dream! Are you hungry?”

Dream’s attention snapped back to the hunters, his head turning quick enough to give him whiplash. He listened as Bad’s voice carried through the canopy. His nickname dragged along at the vowels sounded so childish, yet utterly terrifying. In that moment he sounded a lot closer than before and Dream could feel his chest tighten. It was a sensation he didn’t think he would ever get used to; the constriction of his heart, the cold chill that caused goosebumps along his arms, the breath of death down the back of his neck creeping around him like a vice, _the sensation of being hunted._

Dream hated it. The burst of fear that flooded his veins for a split second left him just as quickly, though it seemed to take all his energy with it. He felt tired, his whole body ached, and the dull, although not unpainful, ache radiating from the slash in his thigh, seemed to weigh him down. He slumped against the tree’s thick trunk, his back pressed firmly against the bark. It dug into the fabric of his shirt, but the heaviness of his eyelids was too much to bear. 

As Dream fought to stay awake, the quiet sounds of the forest-covered him in a blanket of calm. 

* * *

The hunters huddled around the warmth of the crackling fire as they watched the flames with tired eyes. The pregnant silence was broken by Sapnap, who stretched with a drawled groan. His shoulders shifted and cracked, making George wince.

“That was disgusting. Oh my god.” George shivered, suddenly worried for his friend’s bones.

Sapnap smiled mischievously before cracking his knuckles. With each pop, Geroge’s face pulled deeper into a grimace. He picked up a small piece of baked potato and tossed it at Sapnap, who dodged by leaning forward.

“Heh, missed me—” Sapnap mocked with a laugh.

George threw another piece, hitting Sap in the forehead. Sapnap stuck out his tongue and made a disgusted sound. He wiped the hot mush from his face and looked at George.

“Ew, you dickhead—”  
“ _Language_.”

Sapnap turned as Bad, who had been hunched over preoccupied with poking at cooking fish, snapped. The trio lulled into an awkward silence, although not tense whatsoever. George glared at nothing, his fingers idly fidgeting with the goggles that sat in his lap. Sapnap, again, was the one to start a conversation.

“Okay. Like. He can’t be _that_ powerful...can he? I mean, the guy looks pretty dumb, right? He’s not at all as scary as I’d thought he’d be.”

Bad rolled over a carrot, the orange skin turning dark under hot flames. His nose was scrunched in a way the other two hunters knew that he was thinking hard. The hooded man opened his mouth and then closed it, making a great imitation of a fish. George himself felt his eyebrows furrow, his mother used to press her finger above his nose to smooth the wrinkle that formed. She told him if he worried too much he’d have it forever one day. 

George shifted on the tree stump he’d made his seat, pressing his knees together for warmth.

“Says the one that screamed for me when he pointed a stick at you.” Sapnap made a choked sound as Geroge felt a grin on his lips.

“It was sharp! And they said he’s a witch! What if it was a wand? Or—...do you think he cursed me?”

Sapnap’s defensive tone dissolved into one of panic. George couldn’t tell if he was joking. Bad cleared his throat and the two turned to look at him. A serious tone took the place of the soft buzz of laughter.

“It doesn’t matter whether or not he’s scary. He hurt someone and then ran. Now we’re hunting him, end of the story.”

“Are we sure about either?” Sapnap spoke, voice lowering. He felt the need to whisper. “I mean, he had plenty of time to hurt us in the last few days.”

“Look, from what I understand, you don’t run off unless you’re guilty right? We of all people know that.”

Sapnap and Geroge exchanged looks, shame burned hot on their skin. George shrugged his shoulders as Sapnap nodded. Bad sat a little straighter, lips pressed into a forced line.

“So,” Bad continued, still focused on not burning the food. “He must've done something...whatever that may be.”

The delivery falls short, but the heart is there which is enough for all of them to fall back into a, slightly more depressed than before, quiet. The sound of crickets and soft humming of the night seemed far away as if the fire between them warded off the darkness that surrounded the small camp. The dense forest of trees seemed to go forever, mixing with the black ink that was the night sky.

All three of them knew somewhere within the abyss Dream was there, watching and waiting. Sapnap watched the blackness, eyes looking for a flash of a green coat or that stupid, stupid mask. He wondered for a moment if Dream was cold. He cleared his throat, turning back to the fire. 

“We get the job done. No matter what.”

George looked up as something hardened in Sapnap’s face. He licked his lips before opening his mouth. Bad beat him to it.

“Yea. Of course.” Bad agreed with a sigh, looking a lot older than he was.

“No matter what...” George said, voice quiet enough he thought the others didn’t hear him. He looked up and knew they had. 

Even so, as the words fell from George’s mouth and hung in the still air, he found himself not believing them.

* * *

Dream didn’t remember falling asleep. He peeled open his eyes, eyelashes crusted together from sleep. His mouth felt uncomfortably dry as he rubbed at his face. He rolled his neck with a wince, a dull ache spreading outward from a stubborn crick. He looked up to see his bag in the same place as before and let his shoulders sag with relief. His head fell back to lay against the bark of the oak tree. He felt his body relax once more, eyelids falling closed as he listened to the sound of birds and buzz of insects.

He hummed a sigh, fatigue still coating his body in what felt like molasses. He flinched as he heard something metal clang alarmingly close.

“Shit.” A voice grunted below him.

His emerald eyes shot open as he looked around. Another thing he’d forgotten about: his thigh. It made itself known as he leaned forward, breath leaving his lungs in a rush; The sharp pain sent pinpricks all over his body. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop from crying out. He watched as Goggles cursed quietly below him, picking up metal and wooden utensils. Urgency rushed through Dream as he watched the man crouch to steady the large pot which Dream could only assume had been the culprit of noise. From his angle, Dream could see the top of Goggles’ head. 

He watched, frozen with fear as Goggles stood with his thin arms wrapped around the heavy pot. Dream felt the need to run so hotly within himself it _burned_ but he knew if he moved he’d be signaling his position to the hunter. He fought against the borderline animalistic instinct as George walked away holding his breath. The moment the brown-haired man seems far enough away Dream began breathing again, throat on fire. He quickly went into action, stifling a pained whimper, as he grabbed his leather bag. He yanked it from its position before rummaging through the contents. 

“Fuck, holy shit.” Dream panted. His shoulders rose high and stressed.

He grabbed a bundle of shredded strips, setting his bag on his lap as he unlatched the dagger resting against his thigh. His hands trembled as he looked down at the murky fabric of his trousers. Blood and infection had caked everything together making it impossible to just replace the bandages. _No, no, no._ He looked up for any signs of George or other hunters then back down to the gash. The movement had caused it to open, blood poured lamely as the pain slowly began to radiate in short bursts. He cut a small hole into the cloth above the wound before placing the hilt of the knife in between his teeth. He forced himself to breathe evenly, shaking fingers curled into the makeshift hole. He closed his eyes, trying to prepare himself.

_One._ He breathed in with his nose.

_Two._ He exhaled from his mouth, a soft whistle pushing through his teeth.

_Three—_

White, hot, searing pain exploded from his leg as he ripped open the thigh portion of his trousers. The purulent-fused bandages tore from the laceration, leaving it raw and irritated in the open air. Dream gritted his teeth so hard he swore his heard his jaw crack under the pressure. He pressed a large piece of cloth against it to clot the bleeding. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, the sensation leaving him fighting to breathe. He violently shook, curling forward as he waited for the pain to subside. Sweat dripped off Dream’s brow and down his face, his skin clammy and pale. He slowly sat up, feeling dangerously unsteady sitting on the branch.

Dream removed the knife from his mouth, the handle indented with teeth marks. Saliva dribbled down his chin. He stabbed the blade into the side of the tree as an icy flash of anger pierced through him. He pulled his bag on to the top of his chest and rummaged in it one-handedly, the other his leg still pressing the dressing down. Blood soaked through the rag, coating his palm. He pulled out his water canister and twisted the cap off with his teeth. He removed the cloth to stare at the 3-inch deep gash. The skin around it was shriveled and inflamed. An ugly mix of bruises spread out to muddle with patches of sickly greens and yellows. Dried blood and infection coated the bandages in thick blackish tar. The smell was overwhelming and Dream felt faint for a moment as the world spun. 

Dream breathed deeply, squeezed his eyes shut to anchor himself. He tried desperately to keep his leg taut and stomach content down. He decided against counting to instantly pour the water over his thigh. Dream felt the need to stab something again. He quickly wrapped the wound, the pressure only making it hurt more. He gasped as a shuddering sob racked his body unable to hold back the tears that now flowed freely. He slammed his back into the tree trunk, splinters are damned. 

Dream wasn’t sure how long he sat there crying semi-silently, hiccuping through anguished snivels and forcing down heart-clenching wails. Time seemed stagnant up in the thick cover of the oak. He raked his brain over and over again for something with a smidge of serotonin. He was reminded of his mother. Her calming touch, and soothing voice. Any scrape or bruise could be instantly fixed with the grace of her cherry lips. 

_He missed his mother._

_He missed his home._

_He missed his bed._

_He missed waking up and not running for his life._

Dream opened his eyes and with a stuttered breath, carefully moved to gauge the level of pain. A heat pulsed from the wound, so at least he knew his body was trying to fight off the infection. He sluggishly dropped his bag to the bottom of the trunk with as little noise as possible. He scooted on his bum, till his legs hung lamely over the branch. He could either jump down or try to slide, and neither seemed like very good choices.

However, he didn’t get to choose. As he stared where his bag sat against the protruding roots. His mind still buzzing from the pain, didn't seem to hear the footsteps of another person. The sound of a gasp is almost too quiet for Dream to hear. That same feeling from before crept up his chest and tightened around his throat; impending death. He steadily looked up, the itch to run turning into a familiar burn as he met eyes with Goggles. The brown-eyed man seemed frozen in place, in his arms the cooking utensils Dream had seen him leave with now clean, still dripping. There are a few seconds of calm, as there always is before a storm.

Goggles dropped the pot in favor of unsheathing the sword tied to his waist belt. He fumbled with the latch, giving Dream time

Dream, in no shape to fight, jumped from the tree. He hits the ground running.

* * *

The second his right foot touched the ground, pain exploded from his thigh. He cried out but kept going. In the distance, he heard Goggles yell for the other two hunters. Dream glanced behind him, afraid of how close the goggle-wearing hunter might be. He faltered, shocked as he noticed no one behind him. He slowed to a jog and then a full stop. He twisted, searching the eerily calm forest with his eyes. His right leg was slowly going numb, Dream realized as he tried to wiggle his toes. His chest heaved as he gulped in air, feeling exhausted. The back of his shirt stuck to his slick skin. He placed his hand onto his hip and moved to take out his dagger. A cold breeze made him shiver. He’d stabbed it into the tree, _he left it back there._

“God damnit!” He yelled, carelessly.

Anger festered deeper than his wound; At the hunters, at the world, at himself. He rubbed at his face under the mask and grumbled to himself. He fixed his pack and stepped forward to continue.

Or he would have, if not for the body that slammed into him.

Goggles rammed into his side, arms wide and head ducked. Dream yelled out, caught off guard. They crashed to the forest floor, rolling in dirt and leaves. The moment they stopped rolling, George straddled him; His knee dangerously close to his thigh wound. He thrashed, throwing his head back as Goggles grabbed at his arms trying to hold him down. His sword laid a hand’s reach away.

“Sapnap! Bad! ...I’ve got him! Hurry!” Goggles yelled, voice cracking as Dream struggled below him.

Dream made an aspirated sound, causing Goggles to look down at him. He let his body fall still under Goggles’ grasp, chest rising and falling rapidly. The brown hair man stared, something torn about his expression. Dream wet his lips, and spoke as calmly as he could.

“ _Please…_ ” His voice shook, bordering a whisper. He pleaded for the only thing he left, his life. “Please don’t kill me. I didn’t—...I’m not, p-please... _let me go_...”

Goggles gawked, his eyebrows furrowed so deep a wrinkle formed above his nose. Dream felt the urge to press it flat. Both men quickly looked over as two frantic voices grew closer. Goggles looked down at him and opened his mouth to speak. His hands shifted to hold Dream down at his wrists instead of his forearms, but in doing so allowed a split second of leniency. Dream used it to his advantage, throwing himself forward onto Goggles. He scrambled to grab the sword, the hilt heavy in his hand. As Goggles’ back slammed into dirt, the air was knocked out of his lungs. He held the sword to Goggles’ neck, keeping the man at bay. Dream took a few ragged breaths matching with the wheezing of Goggles as he recovered.

Dream stood, threatening to fall over. He stepped back, keeping the sword pointed. The brunette raised his hands, palms up, and face sweaty. Dream wiped the side of his head, it came back red. Goggles went to speak, but Dream snapped. 

“Leave me alone.” His voice held no malice, just sorrow.

He threw the sword down, the clattering sound echoed as the blade met the dirt. He turned and ran, his feet flew over rocks and leaves. The pounding of his heart felt as though it was in his throat, his heartbeat the only thing he could hear. The sky above him twisted dark and cold, hiding the sun in the miserable clouds. He could taste the electricity in the air.

Ahead he saw an open clearing, grassy knolls, and foothills. Just passed was another tree line, a dark forest. Dream could lose them in the tall trees and darkness of the thick canopy. As he threw himself forward, a feeling of danger hung to his heels. In a brilliantly stupid idea, he turned to run towards the open landscape, barely catching his own feet from the change. He heard it, the subtle shift of feet that were not his own. At least he was able to prepare himself as a body, yet again, barreled into him.

Dream tumbled down, taking Goggles with him. Dream kicked out his leg, the flash of throbbing pain worth the foot into the other’s stomach. Dream, on his back, scooted backward as Goggles rolled onto his knees, heaving for a moment. 

“ _You_ _ass—!_ ” Goggles coughed as he stood up unsteadily. 

Dream tried to stand, but the sudden searing pain stopped him. Goggle, looking about as exhausted as Dream felt, swung his sword forward to point it at Dream. _A warning._ Dream kept shifting back, fear and agony leaving his body hot and cold at the same time. The clouds, now heavy, circled the sky.

“Leave me a-alone...” He tried, voice hoarse.

Goggles ignored him in favor of walking closer, still recovering from the kick to his gut. Dream felt a surge of joy in the other’s discomfort. Goggles stared down at him, shoulders pulled back and tight. The sky began to weep, catching both of them in its tears.

“Please-” He whispered, shaking his head.

George raised the sword, both of his hands wrapped white-knuckled around the hilt. He raised it above his head as Dream pleaded. He tried to move farther back but the rain made the earth soft, his fingers only catching mud. Dream couldn’t breathe. The world seemed to stop spinning as the hunter drove the sword downward.

Dream knew one thing for certain: As persistent the hunters were at _killing_ him, Dream was about _living_.

As the sword darted down, aiming for his chest Dream had nowhere to run. He covered his head with weak arms and did the only thing he could: _He screamed._

“ **_S̴̡Ţ̶̮̹̈́̽̕Ö̸̱̣͖P̸̳͝,!”_ **

The sound that passed his lips was ear-piercing, sending both into a state of shock. Goggles’ eyes widened as he dropped the sword to cover his ears even after the sound dissipated. Dream, unable to register what had just happened, scampered to his feet. A numbness washed over him, the only thing that seemed to get through the daze was the smell of burning cinnamon. He stumbled back as George fell to his knees, body shaking, and slack-jawed. Dream’s breath quickened as he noticed the crimson leaking in between his fingers. Through the crashing of the rain, Dream made out two voices.

“George!?" _Hood._  
“ _George!_ Where are you?” _Headband._

Dream stared at the paralyzed man for what felt like forever, anxiety buzzing under his skin. He could see movement at the edge of the forest. He needed to run.

So he did what he did best. He turned tail and ran towards the dark woods. The look on the hunter’s face burned into his eyelids.

_What did I just do?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a discord if you'd like to join! https://discord.gg/pUqzY9U8MT
> 
> Sorry, this is so late. ;; I was moving and things got crazy, but we're good now! Hopefully, updates are more consistent from now on!
> 
> Any feedback is good!


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